Sunday, February 28, 2010

Making My Kid Laugh

Dylan has been doing a great job going potty. With the exception of a very difficult week, when he just abruptly decided he would not have any parts of it, he has been accident free. When he had that difficult week, Jim suggested that we use "Puppy" as motivation. If he wanted to keep "Puppy" he had to go on the potty. Accidents resulted in him losing "Puppy". Worked like a charm.

This week, I was saying to Jim that the little girl at work, while pleasant, doesn't really laugh that much. I said that one of the things that I love the most about Dylan is how often he laughs. I make him laugh all the time. It really doesn't take much. He laughs hard, and he laughs loud, and I love it.

One day this week, Dylan and I were drawing with his board. I told him I would draw something and he could guess what it was. I somehow got on a food kick, drawing strawberries, cake, bananas. When I drew the cake, Dylan said, "Daddy likes cheesecake. Mommy likes cookies". The kid certainly knows us! That is when I drew these...

This is me, shoving chocolate chip cookies in my mouth.
This is Jim, shoving cheesecake in his mouth.
This is Dylan, laughing hysterically.
Really, I wish I would have gotten the laughter on video, but the camera was close by, so that's what I grabbed.

He was laughing himself silly, when suddenly he went "Oh no!" I looked down and there was a small wet spot on the front of his pants. He said "I was laughing and a little pee came out!"
I made my kid laugh so hard, he peed his pants! It was the first time he had an accident that I really wasn't upset. It happens. It might have even happened to me on occasion. Laughing so hard a little pee comes out? I might even call that a great day.

Friday, February 26, 2010

The Preschool Decision

After the Dream School, I toured four other places. At the first, the director rushed me through the place in 15 minutes, and the teacher was so mousey, I couldn't even imagine her raising her voice.

The second place was recommended by several moms in the Mom's Club whose children attend or have attended. I like the place, but I had 2 issues. One, I was able to just walk into the place, and go through the whole building without anyone asking who I was. Not very safe. Two, the director was also the lead teacher of the room Dylan would be in. I don't see how she can do both effectively. She was nice, though, and the kids seemed to be learning a lot. I figured I would most likely choose that place.

The third place was a Montessori school. There were aspects of it I liked - the hands on learning and the combined age groups. But, there were aspects of it that I just really didn't get. For one thing, the kids don't eat snack all together at the same time. There is a small table that seats 3 kids, and they are "free to go over when they are hungry and help themselves to a snack". Uh, I don't know about your kid, but mine thinks he's hungry any time he sees someone else eating. If I grab a granola bar, he wants some, even if he just ate 5 minutes ago. He's a social eater, and with that philosophy, I'm afraid he'd be eating all day.

Another weird thing - if 2 adults are talking, the kids are taught to come over and touch the adults shoulder as a cue, rather than interrupt. I get that. But, the adult then asks, "What's your MESSAGE?" The director said it makes them feel like what they have to say isn't important if we say "What?", or "What do you want?" What's wrong with "Yes?", or "What did you want to say?" "What's your MESSAGE?" just sounds weird to me. Isn't a message something someone tells you to tell another person?

I also worried that this Montessori school (I don't know about others), stressed individual work too much. I want Dylan to socialize with his peers, not sit off by himself all day.

I couldn't get a tour with the fourth place until the day before registration at the second place. The director was warm and caring and I liked her immediately. My thinking is that if the director is warm and caring, she'll probably want to hire people who are the same.

I explained the dilemma I'm having with Dylan. (His birthday being in November, and him being advanced academically. My concern that he would be bored in the 3 year old class. The fact that his current teachers say that he doesn't really play with the other kids, but prefers the teachers attention.) She really listened and asked the appropriate questions to help figure out the best solution.

As we walked through all the rooms, I was impressed at how engaged the children were. The activites were hands on, and fun, and I didn't see a single behavior problem! After talking for a while, the director said, "I feel really bad, because I think your son would do best in the 4 year old room, but that room is already full".

I figured that made my decision easy. I would have to choose the second school. Then, later that afternoon she called me and said they decided to make a spot for Dylan if we wanted it. We wanted it. Now, we'll just wait and see if we made the right choice.

(P.S. I still haven't ruled out The Dream School for the future, because if anything, I am a dreamer).

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

The Dream School

Some of you said that you wanted to hear about the new preschool I chose for Dylan. To do that, I have to give the back story...

When I worked for The Dream Family, I tried to figure out what exactly made the two boys (age 7 and 10 at the time), such amazing kids. In all my years of working with children, I had never met such kind, respectful, creative and intelligent boys. What made them that way? Was it the parents? Was it because their mom had stayed home? Was it the other nanny, that had assisted the mom since they were born? Was it because they didn't watch TV? Or, was it the private school they attended?

I just had to know, so back in November Jim and I went to the school's Open House. As soon as we walked into the school, a delightful fifth grade boy approached us. "Hello! My name is Jack, and I'll be your tour guide". As Jim put it when someone asked if we liked the school, "They had us at "Hello"".

Jack was an amazing kid. As he took us into each room, he would introduce us to the teacher, and then stand politely to the side, while we spoke to them. Two things struck me the most during the tour. One, the enthusiasm that each teacher had for their subject. It was infectious. I told Jim, "I want to go here!"

The second thing was the way each teacher spoke to Jack. They all knew him, and commented on things that they knew he was interested in. This was not a cookie cutter, worksheet kind of place. (I despise worksheets). The kids are actively involved in their learning. They move around the room, working in groups, debating ideas, discussing solutions, and motivating each other.

For the first time in years, I actually wanted to go back to teaching. This place is MY dream school. It embodies every belief I have about education. I wanted to sign Dylan up on the spot. I was screwed.

See, the Dream Family is able to send their kids there because, well, they have Dream money, and we... uh... don't. Yes, the school offers grants and scholarships, but they are difficult to get.

I made an appointment to meet with the Director of Admissions to discuss a few things. I was in her office for an HOUR. She was delightful, as well. She spoke to me for 1/2 hour AFTER I told her we can't afford the school. A couple days later, she sent me a hand-written note, saying how much she enjoyed meeting me, and to keep her updated about Dylan. A HANDWRITTEN NOTE?!? Who does that anymore? As I mentioned, I was screwed.

Every school I went to after that paled in comparison. I was going to have to choose between Nothing At All Like The Dream School, Only Slightly Like The Dream School, and Only Somewhat Similar To The Dream School. Screwed.

(I'll continue this in the next post).

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Sled Riding

The sun has miraculously made an appearance the past couple of days, so the snow is melting, and icicles are falling from rooftops, making noises that cause me to jump each time. Yesterday the sun was shining, and the skies were blue for a change, so we decided to go sled riding. It was Dylan's first time.

Even though some of the snow has melted, we still have about a foot and a half. I drove through the park, looking for an area where someone had already packed down the snow to make a path for sledding. After a while, we gave up and decided to just make our own. HAHAHAHAhahahahahaha... not quite.

Jim started wading through the high snow with the 2 sleds. He got half way through the field, when I started out with Dylan in my arms, so he wouldn't sink. I took about four steps in the snow, which resembled quick sand, before falling over and getting completely stuck. I was still holding Dylan above the snow, but I was in a very impossible situation. I could not get up, without help. Dylan went into complete panic mode, screaming "DADDDDEEEEEE!!!! DADDDDDEEEEE!!!! HELP US DADDDEEEE!!!" "Daddy" didn't seem to be moving. He was slumped over, saying "" Then, I was screaming, "JIM!!!" That got Dylan even more alarmed, and he was screaming again. "HELP!! DADDDDDEEEE!!!" We were quite a sight.

After Jim rescued us, and got Dylan to the road, I took off through the field again to get the sleds. Dylan screamed, "MOMMY! NO!! COME BACK!!", as if I were walking off to my death. Poor kid. He was traumatized. We just about called it a day and left, but I was determined. I managed to find a hill with a packed down path, and we finally started having some proper fun. And, fun it was. We had a blast.

And, the picture of the day... the one I'm sending in for the next America's Next Top Model show...

(If you're wondering why Dylan isn't with me in any of these shots, it is because after me getting stuck in the snow, he lost all faith in my snow abilities. Who could blame him?)

After that, we headed to Chick Fil A for lunch and some play time. It was a great day. One I know I'll remember for a long time.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Just Create

Yesterday, I read this post on Simply Feather. As usual, I commented that her posts make me want to be creative. Darned if that girl didn't email me and challenge me to just do it! Challenge ME? Oh, she doesn't know who she is dealing with. (Okay, she might not have meant it as a challenge exactly, but that's how I took it). She said I should just sit down and draw with Dylan. That really got me thinking. Why don't I ever do that?

Suddenly, I had a flashback to years (none of your beeswax how many) ago, when I sat in on a kindergarten class at the school I was interviewing at. It was free-play time, and some kids had the markers out. I sat down next to a few of them, and started talking to them, and drawing something. A few minutes later, the teacher walked over, leaned down and said, "We don't draw with the children. If we draw, it makes them feel inferior, since they can't draw as well as we can. It also hinders their creativity, because they are trying to imitate what we have done, instead of using their own ideas".

All these years and that has stuck with me! It has influenced me and my actions, even though I was never really convinced I agreed with that philosophy!

I suddenly had another flashback to even further back, sitting at my parent's dining room table, drawing with my mom. My mom had minored in Art in college, and I have to admit, I probably did imitate her, and wish I could draw like her. But, here's the thing. I LOVED drawing with her. I loved spending that time with her. I loved her sharing something she was good at with me. I loved doing something together. What have I been thinking?!

When Dylan saw ME drawing and painting, he said, "What are YOU doing?!" When I answered, "Drawing and painting with you! It's fun to do things together", he just smiled, but I just know he agrees. We were having so much fun being creative, we decided to "create" some cookie magic after that. When making cookies makes your kid this happy,

that's a no brainer.

What I created in the 15 minutes I had, in between cooking dinner, and emptying the dishwasher.

With all the snow around here, it seemed an appropriate theme! I forgot to paint the sun, and had to fill it in later! (Must have forgotten what it looked like).

Monday, February 15, 2010

A Phone Call With Winter

Brrrinng.... Brriiinnngg...

Winter: "Hello?"

Me: "Winter! Hi! How are you?"

Winter: "Who is this?"

Me: "It's Jen".

Winter: "Jen? Oh, Jen! You never call me! You always call your buddy Spring around this time each year. You two are so tight. Did you two have a falling out?"

Me: "Uh... no. Actually, I tried to call her, but her line has been busy for a week now. She must be getting a lot of calls".

Winter: "Yea, yea, whoopee for Spring. She's SO popular. What am I? Chopped liver?"

Me: "Well, you can't really expect people to be very happy with you this year, you know".

Winter: "Why not? Boy, you Pittsburgh people are a bunch of whiners, you know that? Waaah, waah, waah, grumble, whine, moan. You live in Pittsburgh. It's February. It's snowing. So what? What's the problem? Yinz guys don't like snow n'at?"

Me: "'s not just snow. You've dumped 30 inches on us in the past 10 days! And, now you're giving us 3-6 more tonight?! That's a bit excessive, don't you think? What's got you so royally ticked off?"

Winter: "Well, if you must know, maybe I got sick and tired of being called "Old Man Winter"! I'm not that old! I figured I'd show you young farts I'm still powerful! I'm still a force to be reckoned with! Maybe now I'll get the respect I deserve, huh?!"

Me: "Wow.. You have issues. Seek therapy".

Winter" "I have issues?! What about you?! You're the one who's always asking your husband "Why do we live here?" You're the one who talks about moving to Florida, but never does. That was a nice touch - how I made it snow in FLORIDA this year, huh?! Ha, Ha, Ha!"

Me: "HA! HA! HA! Ha! Ha! Ha!...

Winter: "It wasn't that funny".

Me: "Well, at some point, you just have to laugh. What else are you gonna do? First, the kids were off all week last week, and we were stuck in the house. Then, it just had to be President's Day today, which meant the kids were off again! Now, you've decided to unleash another snowstorm. It's all just a bit much".

Winter: "You can't see me, but I'm playing my violin right now. Like I said... February... snow... deal with it. I saw you playing in it today, so you must not hate it that much".

Me: "Well, I had to do something with the kids I'm a nanny for. When that dog... the one that ate my boots last week... got stuck in the snow... that was pretty funny. And, I did enjoy pelting the kids with a ton of snowballs! Thanks for that."

Winter: "Yea, talking about OLD. You think you're still in your 20's, running and jumping around in the snow. I think you pulled something."

Me: "I DID NOT!"

Winter: "Oh? Then, why are you walking like that?"

Me: "Shut up! I really don't like you, you..."

Winter: "Careful! I'll dump another 6 inches on The Burgh, just for kicks!"

Me: (whispering) "Someone should really smack you with a shovel".

Winter: "What did you say?"


Winter: "Yea, I think yours broke under the weight of 2 1/2 feet of snow! HaHaHaHa! Oh, hey, have fun driving to work in the morning! Maybe the kids will be off again! HaHaHaHa! SNORT!" Click...

Me: "Oh yea! Well... I... Well... you... Hello?... (Dead air) Sigh. I'm going to try Spring's number again..."

Friday, February 12, 2010

(So Not) Love Stories Part 2

5. When I went out with this guy on our first date, we were sitting in the back of his truck, talking about our jobs. I was teaching preschool then, and he remarked, "I don't know how you can do that". "You don't like kids?", I asked. He answered, "It's more that they don't like me". I said, "Oh, come on! I'm sure it's all in your mind". Literally, about five minutes later, a mother and her little boy were walking past, the little boy carrying an inflatable hammer he won at the fair. My date looked at him and smiled. The boy screamed and hit him in the shins with the bat! Hmmm... I should have taken that as a sign.

6. The Bozo and I met in June, the year before my sophomore year in college. In December, I was home for Christmas break, and we decided to go skiing. The Bozo had his skis sharpened before we started. After I went down the hill, I looked up to see that he was on the ground. I waited a few minutes for him to get up, but after a few minutes he was still there. I yelled up “Are you ok?” and he yelled back “No, I need help!” Well, this will sound bad, but at this point I was thinking “Oh for God’s sakes, stop being such a big baby”. See, The Bozo was a hyperchondriac - he was always sick, or had a bruise I needed to look at, or he had a strange pain somewhere, etc. I thought he was being overly dramatic and as I slowly made my way up the hill to him, I was thinking “Give me a break! Be a man!” When I got to him one of his skiis was off and he was holding his forehead.
I asked ,
“What happened?”
“I was watching you, and not paying attention to what I was doing, and I crossed one ski in front of the other, so I fell. When my ski came off it cut my forehead.” Typical of him to blame it on me. Everything was always my fault.
“Let me see.”
“I don’t think I should take my hand off.”
“Come on. Let me see.” I was still thinking he was overexaggerating until he took his hand away and I saw the huge gash in his forehead and the blood came gushing out. At which point, I responded as any calm, sympathetic, girlfriend would who is in complete control of the situation. By sitting in the snow exclaiming “Oh my God, Oh My God, O My God....”

Lucky for The Bozo, an angel of a guy stopped, wrapped his own scarf around The Bozo’s head, asked if I was ok (I was still being helpful by reciting my “Oh my God” mantra and had added staring into space and looking pale), and took off down the hill to get the Ski Patrol. They were there in no time with a stretcher attached to a snowmobile and after they put The Bozo on the stretcher, they asked if I was ok to ski down the hill to meet them at the infirmary (I still wasn’t looking well). I assured them I was and very slowly made my way down the hill to the infirmary, where I was told they had called an ambulance. I was to follow the ambulance to the hospital in my car.

When we finally made it to the hospital The Bozo asked me if I could call his mom while we waited for the doctor. So, I had the privilege of telling his mother, who I had never met, or talked to up to this point, “Hi, this is Jen, I don’t know if you know but I’m dating your son. Anyway, we were skiing today and he got hurt and has to get stitches. We’re at the hospital.” Then, I went back in and was told by the foreign doctor I could barely understand, something like, “You hold hand. I stitch”. I think I mumbled something like, “You no understand. Me. Blood. No good.” But he apparently didn’t understand me either because there I was holding The Bozo’s hand watching the guy stitch up his head. What a romantic date.

7. The guy I dated right before Jim had never been skiing. He asked me to help him learn. We unknowingly picked Winterfest weekend at 7 Springs, (the busiest, most crowded weekend of the season). First, I tried to keep him from losing his patience while we waited in line for over 30 minutes for his skis. Then, we discovered every single locker was full, except one, that was broken. We shoved our boots in it and hit the slopes.

Then, I bit my tongue to keep from laughing when he couldn't get his one boot in the ski. Then, I failed miserably at trying not to laugh at this muscular, 6'2" tough guy falling down the hill... repeatedly. Then, I tried to keep him calm when we got back to the lockers and discovered our boots were stolen. As I'm writing this, I'm wondering how we left? Did we walk back to our car with just our socks on? I've blocked a lot of this garbage out for my own safety.

So, I'm not going to tag anyone. If you have a bad date story, though, please do tell. I'd like to know I'm not the only one. Oh, and can I just say, "Thank You!", to my wonderful husband? Thank you for saving me from all that!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

(So Not) Love Stories Part 1

One of my new blog buddies, Heather, from Simply Feather, gave me this award...

and tagged me to post 7 Random Things about Myself. Besides her great writing, I love to read her blog to be inspired. She is one crafty gal, and each one of her crafty posts makes me want to sit down and create... something, anything. But, I am sad to say that so far, I haven't actually sat down and created anything after reading one of her posts. Inspiration and motivation are two different things I guess. Then, there is procrastination. We'll talk about that some other time.

Since I did that meme before not once, but twice, and changed the rules, it should come as no surprise that I am also changing the rules this time. In honor of VDay, I thought I would do 7 (So Not) Love Stories From My Past.

1. My first kiss was from my parent's friend's little boy, when I was maybe four years old. My parents have a picture of me pushing him away, with a "COOTIES!" kind of look on my face. Interestingly enough, I ended up going to the prom with that guy... as friends. No kissing was involved.

2. When I was almost 16, I went to a week long camp with two friends. I had gone with a plan. For some reason, it was important to teenage me, that I not be "Sweet 16 and Never Been Kissed". I was getting someone to kiss me at that camp! (If my parents only knew they were sending me to Christian camp for this reason!) My friends and I were hugging people goodbye on the last day, and I hugged a guy I had hung out with during the week. As we pulled away, I said, "How about a kiss?" It was a perfect first kiss, not too long, not too short, just soft and sweet... and I never saw him again. (I didn't kiss anyone else until I was 18!)

3. In high school, my friends and I went to a dance club that had "Under 21" nights. One evening when a slow song came on I became exasperated. "Look at this!!", I shouted to my friends. "The guys stand over here waiting for someone to ask them to dance, and the girls stand over here waiting... and no one ever dances! I am sick of it! I am picking out the best looking guy here and I'm asking him to dance!" I marched up to Hot Guy, asked him to dance and turned around to go back to my friends, (convinced he would say No), when I heard him say "Sure". After we danced, this very large, scary girl got in my face, saying she was going to "kick my ass" for dancing with "her boyfriend". I informed her, "Maybe you should inform him that he's your boyfriend, because he doesn't seem to know". Miraculously, my ass wasn't kicked, and I learned something valuable... Guys are just as scared and insecure as girls are.

4. After I discovered how much guts it takes to ask someone to dance, I vowed that I would say "Yes" to anyone who asked me. It didn't take long for me to revise that proclamation. First, there was the drunk guy whose breath almost made me pass out cold. Then, the rather large gentleman who was sweating so profusely my hands slid right off him. The final straw was when a guy came up behind me and asked. I turned around, said "Sure", and followed him onto the dance floor. As we started dancing, he started talking. I looked past him to where my friend sat, trying to motion to her without him seeing. She didn't understand me and I was struck by a horrible case of the giggles. I had to bury my head in his shoulder (he thought I was into him), to keep from laughing. When I got back to my friend I explained that I was motioning to tell her that he only had 4 teeth!

(I need to watch TV with the star of my real Love Story now, so I'll post 5-7 another day. Hope you can handle the suspense).

Saturday, February 6, 2010

The Big Snow

When it looks like this outside...

what else is there to do, but go out and play in it? Err... stand in it.

But, first, you must endure the worst part of playing in the snow... getting ready.
It can at least be made entertaining, when your crazy kid decides to raid your winter box, and try on every single thing in it.

Your kid will most likely have a moment of panic, and freak out, when he steps into the snow... and sinks. But, he will come around quickly and see that if he just stays in one place everything will be fine.

His daddy, who is coincidentally enough, also crazy, will decide that doing a snow angel in almost 2 feet of snow is a fabulous idea.

His lovely, and not at all crazy wife, will of course, laugh and snap pictures. She will then pose for a few pictures, doing her best to look pretty, ignoring the fact that her snow pants had to be held shut at the waist with a safety pin.

(My poor Dad's birthday is today. They lost power at their house last night at 9pm. They were stranded at their place all day, cold, grumpy from getting no sleep, and hungry. They are on there way here (at 8:30pm) to camp out on our couches. But, we love you, Dad!! Happy Birthday! At least, it is one you'll remember. : ) )

Friday, February 5, 2010

I'm Not Even Sure Where IT Is Right Now

I try to keep this blog positive, for the most part, for several reasons. One, because I try to be a positive person in "real" life, so why be a downer on my blog? Two, because I want people to enjoy reading my blog, not feel the need to go grab a Prozac after reading one of my posts. Three, because I don't really want documentation of my problems.

To some, it might look like I have IT all together. But, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Come closer. Lean in. (Whispering)... I don't. (Don't tell anyone).

I was sick with bronchitis and a bruised rib the whole month of December. Because of that, I didn't get anything done. It hurt trying to bring heavy laundry baskets up two flights of stairs, so not much laundry was done. I was too weak to clean. I really just focused on getting through my days, doing just the absolute necessities.

In January, I learned that registration for preschool was coming up in the middle of February. Since then, finding a new preschool for Dylan has been my main focus. I researched schools online. Then, I asked the 50 or so members of the Mom's Club for school recommendations. Then, I toured 5 schools. I was amazed at how different they all were. My head has been swimming with information, confused and overwhelmed.

I remember when I taught preschool years ago, and a mother actually cried on my shoulder because her son didn't get into the school she wanted him to go to. At the time, I thought she was insane. Now, I can relate. Choosing a school is stressful!

Spending a lot of time focusing on schools has meant that other things aren't getting done. I'm still not caught up from December, and now I'm getting further behind! Work has been stressful (some of you know my employer's dog ate my boots this week - the only winter boots I have). Dylan has been... three. The person who coined the phrase "terrible twos"? Their child clearly hadn't reached three yet.

The thing that really bothers me is that I haven't been making a lot of time for friends lately. I missed a good friend's birthday. I let the day go by - the week go by even - without a card, an email, a gift, or a call.

My kitchen looks like this...

I am simply not brave enough to show you what my bathrooms look like.

BUT, I chose a preschool!! It was down to the last minute, hours from the deadline, me torn between two schools. Of course, I don't know if I made the right choice. Only time will tell, but at least I can focus on something else for a while. Cleaning the house might be a good idea? I better get IT back together, or I'll start doing things like this. (By the way, when I saw that milk, I laughed... until I cried. Which should have given me a clue that my mental state was a bit... off. Either that, or I'm becoming my grandfather).

Monday, February 1, 2010

We Only Bowled One Game!!

Dylan had been stuck in the house, sick, for a whole week. It was time to venture out and cure the boredom, so yesterday, we took him bowling for the very first time.

In the morning, I drew some "bowling pictures" for Dylan, explaining how the game is played. When we went upstairs to wake up daddy, Dylan explained bowling to him, in case maybe he didn't know. Later, when I asked Dylan if he'd like to go bowling, his eyes lit up. He was super excited.

We decided to go to FunFest, since I was pretty sure they would have bumper bowling. Jim and I hadn't been to a bowling alley in years. When we walked in, we discovered it was "Cosmic Bowling" night, which entails large screens with LOUD videos being played, and glow in the dark lighting. "We" probably should have called ahead to learn that lovely detail, but we weren't going to let a little noise, and bad lighting stop us from having fun.

One of the first things Dylan did was discover that bowling shoes are slippery, when he tried to dance along to the music! There was another family next to us, with a boy who looked to be around 4 years old, and a baby girl. Although it was a little tough keeping Dylan in our area, and out of harm's way, watching the 4 year old boy next to us climb on everything and slide around on the floor, and kick the balls, made us feel that Dylan was pretty well behaved. Funny how behavior is relative.

We bowled one game...

The fact that I didn't bowl much better than my 3 year old did not go unnoticed, thanks. I blame the lighting.

When we went up to pay, I told the girl the lane number, and she said, "Blahbitty eight, blahbitty". "HOW MUCH?!", I yelled over the ridiculously loud music. She said it again, but I was sure I still wasn't hearing her correctly, because she said "Twenty eight - twenty" "WHAT?! We only bowled ONE GAME!!", I shouted, convinced she had gotten our lane confused with another. Nope. Seriously, people, I know I sound like an old fart, but is that how much a game of bowling costs these days?! That is just outlandish nonsense. Why, when I was a young whippersnapper, we certainly didn't pay anywhere near that! I think we also walked to the bowling alley... uphill... both ways... (Sigh)